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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299143">When the rain will fall...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juno999/pseuds/Juno999'>Juno999</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Feels, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, Longing, Memories, Pining, Post-Canon, Sad with a Happy Ending, Some angst, mostly feels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:07:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juno999/pseuds/Juno999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An array of yellow taxis were coming and going. People climbed in and out of them, rushing to catch their train or proceeding to their next destination, some of them surely were returning home. Families and friends were separating, reuniting and separating again. Travellers were arriving to the city for the first time or leaving it forever. The rickety trolley passed on its usual route. All around him life was bustling, yet he remained stationary as if suspended in time. Waiting, always waiting...</p><p> </p><p>What if the one you love is never lost, but just slightly out of reach?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Violet Baudelaire &amp; Quigley Quagmire, Violet Baudelaire/Quigley Quagmire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>In some other life</em>
  <br/>
  <em>We are standing</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Side by side and</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Laughing that, in</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Some other life</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are apart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>~David Jones</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Quigley gave the City street a tired look, as he stepped out of the train station building. Late spring was on its last breath. The snow had melted. The showers had passed. The fruit trees had bloomed and had their blossoms scattered away by the wind. The lush green leaves were taking over in the City parks, and the sun was radiating summer heat. Its bright light was pouring on the City, bleaching out the grey buildings of the transportation district. The trees, that used to grow on the edge of the sidewalk, got removed in the most recent redevelopment to allow for the road widening. Without a pop of fresh colour the City looked like an overexposed photo of itself and not at all appealing. This was not the best time of the year to come back, however the meeting with the Quagmires’ lawyer required his presence.</p><p>Quigley frowned, adjusting his sunglasses, which gave the view of the City a slight sepia tone, and walked toward the sidewalk. Isadora was supposed to pick him up at the designated spot, so he stayed by the drop off area, waiting for her sleek black car to arrive. An array of yellow taxis were coming and going. People climbed in and out of them, running to catch their trains or proceeding to their next destination, some of them surely were returning home. Families and friends were separating, reuniting and separating again. Travellers were arriving to the City for the first time or leaving it forever. The rickety trolley passed on its usual route. All around him life was bustling, yet he remained stationary, as if suspended in time. Waiting, always waiting...</p><p>A sudden bump into his left side made Quigley lose balance, and he almost dropped his suitcase. He put it on the ground, readjusted his backpack and looked over to see, what ran into him. It was a person. A young woman to be exact, about his age, maybe a little older. She was holding a map of the City in front of her. Her eyes, wide in surprise, peaked over it.</p><p>“I am so so sorry,” she apologized, crumpling the map in her hands and making the rest of her face visible. She was beautiful. Her eyes were her most striking feature - bright, clear and intelligent. Quigley couldn’t help but smile. She smiled back cautiously. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“I'm fine,” he replied. “Don’t worry, my fault, really, I shouldn’t be daydreaming in the middle of a busy walkway.”</p><p>“No, no, no the fault is mine,” she insisted. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”</p><p>“Is your map that interesting?” Quigley wondered, taking a closer look at the map she was holding.</p><p>“Not really," she sighed. "It’s very confusing, though. I'm looking for the City Archives. The building should be around here somewhere,” she gestured vaguely across the street. “But I can't find it. I’ve walked around this block at least three times by now.”</p><p>“And you won’t be able to find it with the map you have,” he let out a small laugh. “It's terribly outdated! This map is at least seven years old, if not more.”</p><p>“You could tell that much just by glancing at it?” she sounded impressed. “You must know a lot about maps!”</p><p>“It’s a hobby of mine,” he said quickly, trying not to bring too much attention to his knowledge. “Anyway, the Archives moved to a different location about four years ago, when this district got redeveloped.”</p><p>“It’s been a while since I came to the City,” she said. “I couldn’t imagine it changed so much. This is the only map I have, though…”</p><p>A shadow of disappointment passed across her face and Quigley felt oddly nostalgic. Had he seen an expression like this on someone before? '</p><p>He patted down his jacket and fished out a notebook and a pencil, that he normally carried with him. Then he tapped on his watch to bring out the compass hiding behind the watch face and tore a page out of the notebook</p><p>“I’ll draw one for you,” Quigley explained. “I happen to know the City well and have recently been to the Archives building.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>To see her smile return, he would do so much more.</p><p>“It’s no problem,” he said. “Now, you should take this street two blocks west, then cross at the lights and travel that street five blocks north. The new Archives building should be on your left. You can’t miss it. It has the most garish statue in front of it.”</p><p>“What does it look like?” </p><p>“It’s supposed to be a lion guarding the Archives’ books, but it looks more like a poodle.”</p><p>She laughed and took the map Quigley drew for her. Her expression changed, once she took a closer look at his directions. There was a curious look in her eyes, when she lifted her gaze back at him.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said slowly. “Your directions are very helpful and this map… It is very finely drawn.”</p><p>Quigley's heart skipped a beat. Did he heard her right? She did emphasize the last three words.</p><p>A VFD code!</p><p>Could this woman be an agent? Did she recognize him? It was unlikely since most of VFD members, who knew him were long gone. Or could it be?</p><p>“Pardon,” he began, his voice shaking. “You said…”</p><p>He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as Quigley heard the sound of car horn. Isadora’s car was pulling into the designated pick up area. He had to go.</p><p>“That this map is very detailed and your directions are comprehensive,” she repeated. He could hear disappointment in her voice. “I will not be lost again, thank you.”</p><p>“You are welcome,” he wanted to keep talking to her. Ask her the questions that plagued his mind, but the car horn was demanding his attention. “My ride is here. I must be going.”</p><p>The woman nodded in understanding.</p><p>“I hope you find what you are looking for,” Quigley paused trying to prolong the conversation, maybe with an extra minute or two, he could figure out, what was so familiar about her, why he felt so nostalgic. The sound of car horn got louder. “Have a very fine day.”</p><p>With that, he picked up his suitcase and hurried to the designated zone, where Isadora was waiting impatiently. He opened the trunk to drop off his luggage, closed it and walked over to the passenger door. However, he couldn't resist a quick glance back to where the woman was standing. She was still there, clutching both maps in her hands and staring directly at him. Quigley fought the urge to run back to her and ask her all the questions that resurfaced. At least he could ask her name…</p><p>“Would you hurry, please,” Isadora called. “I can’t park here for long, you know.”</p><p>“Of course,” he climbed into the passenger seat and put on his seatbelt.</p><p>He took another glance back, but the woman was already gone. Quigley sighed heavily in disappointment.</p><p>“I'm sorry, I interrupted you,” his sister was very annoyed. “But we really can’t miss this appointment.”</p><p>“I know. Honestly, it was nothing. I was just helping a lost person with directions. Her map was terribly outdated.”</p><p>“It surely didn’t look like nothing,” Isadora said, as they pulled away and joined the traffic. “You should have seen your face, when you were talking to her.”</p><p>“Well, it’s nothing now,” he said regretfully. “I didn’t even ask her name...”</p><p>“At least you talked to someone,” she noted, her voice softening. “You’ve spent years searching for Violet with no luck. You should move on with your life; Duncan did.”</p><p>“Duncan has life to move on with, Isadora,” Quigley reminded her. “I don’t have that luxury.”</p><p>She opened her mouth to say something, but chose to concentrate on driving. Quigley looked out the car window, where the transportation district slowly faded away, as they drove toward the City centre. The lawyer appointment they were rushing to was to dispute his legal status. As far as the law was concerned Quigley Quagmire had been legally dead for seven years.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well this happened...<br/>This fanfic is made up of several of my ideas, that didn't fit anywhere else. It's a casserole fanfic y'all!<br/>So for a while I had this idea of an alternative version of the Search, where the Reunion never happens, and years later Quigley just leaves random clues hoping Violet will find one of them. It involved a map and paper town.*cringes* I know lame, but hear me out...<br/>Then I also had another idea for the bad ending for the Search, where everything goes terribly wrong, and they are separated once again. But I just couldn't bring myself to write it, cause I grew to love the Search so much (and so did so many of you, thank y'all again so so much, you don't know how much this means to me 💜). So instead it became this...<br/>Then and finally I thought even if everything works out, Quigley is still considered dead and the law system in the ASOUE universe is ridiculous, so that made me think and thus this monstrosity was born.<br/>I also got inspired by the Vaguely Familiar, yet Distant by warlockdetective (they are a fantastic writer! so so good!) and this one idea tied it all together.<br/>Again this one fanfic took a lot of my random ideas, that never made it to final drafts of my other fanfics, so so many ideas y'all. It is also probably my best planned fanfic to date, which does not say much. You know how me and plans go. Brace yourself for a lot of dialog as usual, cause I discovered the I love writing dialog.<br/>Also good summary descriptions... we don't know her...<br/>This one...this one is going to be interesting y'all...<br/>I dedicate it to all my lawyer friends, who are way smarter than I ever will be, cause LSAT is a doozy.<br/>UPD:  I finally found the author for the poem I used in the beginning, so I added their credit. I also found a closing poem for this one as well, it's so good ya'll. I can't wait to write the last chapter, whenever I'll get to it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Violet didn’t have many secrets that she kept from her siblings.</p><p>The life they had led, since the fire at the Baudelaire mansion, did not leave much room for them anyway. There were a few memories, however that she managed to keep to herself. Mother helping her tie her hair ribbon, before Violet learned how to do it herself. Father teaching her the best way to repair a broken toaster. Quigley's eyes meeting hers on the ledge of the frozen water fall and what followed after… Those little moments felt uniquely hers. Not shared among the three of them, they belonged to Violet alone. She kept them close to her heart and on the days, when the world felt grey and dull and dreary, those moments reminded her of happier times.</p><p>Now there was another thing, that she kept secret from her siblings.</p><p> </p><p>Violet discovered the notes by accident. It was few days after the Baudelaire siblings returned to Uncle Monty’s house. Their lengthy voyage across the open sea did not land them on the Briny Beach, as they expected. Instead, the Baudelaires ended up at the entrance to the horseradish factory, along the winding path of Lousy Lane. What seemed to be a usual sign of their misfortune, turned out to be a rare lucky moment in their lives. After a few long and exhausting hours of walking the Lousy Lane, the Baudelaires came across the familiar gates decorated with reptiles of all sorts. Uncle Monty’s house didn’t change much, despite being abandoned for nearly two years. The garden was overgrown. The hedges needed to be trimmed. The glass walls of the reptile room needed washing, some of them had to be replaced. However, the power generator was still in good shape, the well had clean water in it and the kitchen pantry was stacked with non-perishable food. A house in the middle of nowhere, that covered the basic needs they had, became a refuge for the Baudelaire siblings.</p><p>When they started to clean the house up to make it more livable, Violet discovered small signs, that someone had been there before them. Empty food cans in the kitchen garbage, books shelved differently in the library and notes left here and there, as if they fell out of someone’s pockets. All those little signs made Violet smile, Quigley was here, just like he said he was. The notes made her particularly happy. She liked to pretend that they were meant for her; little reminders Quigley sent her across time, so that she wouldn’t forget him. She didn’t of course. How could she? However, Violet’s memory of him became more and more disjointed. She remembered the warm colour of his eyes, his charming smile, the comfort of her hand in his. Yet none of these memories came together to make a whole person.</p><p> </p><p>Time passed and the Baudelaire’s once again made Uncle Monty’s house their home. They missed him greatly, but the thought, that his house kept them safe from the world for so long, made them thankful. From one of the newspapers, that Klaus brought home from town, they'd learned that the Quagmire triplets returned to the City. Isadora inherited the Quagmire sapphires, as the oldest one of the triplets. She led a secluded lifestyle, while working on her poetry. Duncan took an internship as a free-lance reporter and wrote for the variety of newspapers and magazines, though never for the Daily Punctilio. All of his articles were very well researched. When the news came, Violet wanted to reach out to the triplets immediately, but Klaus stopped her. He reminded her of their status as criminals and arsonists and fugitives. She agreed, that they could not put their friends in danger once again.</p><p>Quigley was never mentioned in any of the articles they found, and Violet found it confusing. Both of his siblings were back in the City, but where was he? Klaus theorized that he could have remained on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home with Hector. Sunny thought that he travelled to the other side of the continent to work on his maps. And Violet… Violet had a small hope, what Quigley was looking for them.</p><p>They continued to live on.</p><p>Klaus studied the law books and researched legal cases, that could help them. Sunny and Beatrice grew smarter and taller everyday. Violet worked to support her family. She still carried the promise she made to her parents to keep her siblings safe. Somedays, though she wished for someone. Not as much to share her promise, but to be there just for her, to be one of her secrets. On those days she looked closely at the gates of Uncle Monty’s house, wondering, if Quigley would ever appear there.</p><p>Until then, she had his notes.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi folks, I am back with chapter two!<br/>I like it better this way. Do you like it better? Let me know.<br/>I really liked the idea of the Quigley's notes and I just didn't want to give them up, plus they tie in to the next chapter (yup we are not done with the sad, we are just getting started)<br/>Anyway, in hindsight, I think this would work better as Chapter 1, cause it sets the stage, but I'll leave it there its is. It also has no dialog at all (who am I even?)<br/>I hope you all enjoy! (or have a good cry, either is good with me)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The middle of the summer was not the best time to travel down the Lousy Lane. Truth be bold, very few times were. The summer heat made the smell of horseradish even less bearable and the smog made the dirty road even grimier. Most drivers would speed through the area, hoping to pass it quickly and head toward far more pleasant sceneries. This tendency made the auto repair shop on the outskirts of the town of Tedia the busiest one in the area. And the fact that it was the only repair shop in the area for many miles. Blown tires, damaged transmission, dead batteries and overworked engines were a common sight at the shop. The drivers would pay extra, just to get their vehicles repaired quickly and get out of there as soon as possible. Violet was the favourite mechanic of the repair shop owner. She worked fast and never said no to an extra shift. Once she had some extra money, Violet invested in her own tow truck and drove around the area, towing the damaged vehicles back to the shop. She was grateful for a job that paid well, was within her interests and for an employer, who didn’t ask many questions.</p><p> </p><p><br/>That day her beeper alerted her about the car, that needed towing. She got ready to go, even though technically it was her day off. She put on her work coveralls, tied her hair in a ribbon and headed out. Violet spotted the car in need of assistance about halfway through the Lousy Lane, right around the area with the brittle apple trees. A deep emerald green sedan, in a pretty good shape, aside from the flat front tire on the driver’s side. The car owner was next to it and matched it like a glove. It was a young man wearing dark aviator sunglasses, even though the day was cloudy since morning. He gave her a wave, as Violet parked her truck.</p><p>“Flat?” she asked sympathetically, walking over to the car.</p><p>“Like the road that runs through the Hinterlands,” he replied with a sad laugh.</p><p>"And you don’t have a spare,” Violet kneeled next to the tire, accessing the condition. It was shredded to bits, but the rim did not appear to be damaged.</p><p>“Just the tire sealant,” he shrugged. “I don’t know much about car repair, but I think this one is beyond saving.”</p><p>“An astute observation,” she looked up at him and smiled.</p><p>There was something so charming about him, just trying to lighten up the situation. The man smiled back, adjusting his sunglasses. His smile was peculiar, only moving one side of his mouth up. Violet felt like her head went for a spin. She got up quickly, trying not to loose her balance, but that only made her feel more dizzy. She leaned against the side of the car to regain her composure. Had she seen someone smile like that before? Someone long lost...The young man was about her age, maybe a little younger. He was a little taller than her, dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but that smile. It was just like…</p><p>“Are you alright?” he sounded concerned. Not everyday the mechanic, who came to help you out, needs help herself.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Violet straitened herself up and dusted off her coveralls. “Just a little dizzy.”</p><p>“The air feels stale today, it looks like it might rain soon.”</p><p>She nodded and brought the conversation back to the car. “The rim does not seem to be damaged. I would have to run the diagnostic on it and on the transmission at the shop, to be sure. We do have the tires that fit this model as well. The car might have to stay at the shop overnight, though.”</p><p>“That works for me. Which shop is it again?” he wondered passing her the keys. “The one by the trolley station?”</p><p>“Yes,” she couldn’t help, but be impressed. “You know this area really well!”</p><p>“I’ve been here before, many years ago,” he stopped for a moment and frowned. “I'm surprised the old horseradish factory is still in business. It makes the area feel even less xenial.”</p><p>Violet’s eyebrows moved up in surprise. She heard that word before. Was it Klaus, who explained its meaning to her or was it someone else.</p><p>“You have an extensive vocabulary,” she said cautiously, “You must be very well read.”</p><p>“It runs in the family.”</p><p>Her beeper went off unexpectedly. She grabbed it out of her pocket, read the message and sighed heavily. Another pick up, all the way back at Tedia. She had to leave now, if she were to get both repair jobs done before the shop closed for the night. There was, however, one thing she could do to prolong their conversation, as it was growing particularly interesting.</p><p>"Would...would you like a ride back to town?” she asked. “I have to tow your car to the shop and there is enough space in the cabin.”</p><p>“Thank you, but I must decline,” he responded, with a tinge of regret. “There is a place around here I was hoping to visit. It's the reason I came here. I think I can make it there, if I walk.”</p><p>“There is nothing here for miles!” Violet exclaimed. “It’ll be a very long walk!”</p><p>“Well, I am a fast walker. There is a small favour I would ask of you, though, if you don't mind," he said, looking off in the distance. The dark clouds were gathering on the horizon. "You wouldn’t happen to have an umbrella I could borrow? I don't want to get caught in the rain.”</p><p>“Of course,” Violet walked over to her truck, climbed up on the passenger side and grabbed an umbrella out of the glove compartment.</p><p>When she turned around, the young man was standing by the side of her truck his hand extended toward her. She hesitated for a moment, but then placed her hand in his and jumped down.</p><p>“I was hoping you would pass me the umbrella,” his voice sounded a bit off. “But this works too.”</p><p>He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, as if trying to imitate a handshake. It felt like a lightning bolt passed through Violet’s body. She felt happy, and embarrassed and confused at the same time. She had felt like that before. All of this was too silly, but she gave his hand a small squeeze in return.</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you,” he paused, reading her name tag. “Lavender.”</p><p>The sound of her fake name made Violet feel even more embarrassed. It was the first idea, that came to her, when she was introducing herself to the repair shop owner. Now it stuck.</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you, as well…” she didn’t even know his name.</p><p>“Finn, short for Finnegan. Named after one of my mother’s great uncles, I believe.”</p><p>“Oh, I'm named after my birth flower,” Violet desperately tried to make the situation less awkward, than it already was.</p><p>“It’s a lovely name.”</p><p>Violet felt frozen in time, enveloped by an odd sense of nostalgia. This man was a complete stranger, yet she couldn’t help but feel like they have met before. Something about him felt so painfully familiar. His mannerisms, his smile, how he made her feel... The sound of the beeper brought her to her responsibilities. Reluctantly she let go of the man’s hand and finally passed him the umbrella.</p><p>"Thank you,” he said softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” she wondered slightly confused.</p><p>“When I pick up my car,” he laughed. "I’ll bring your umbrella back too.”</p><p> Violet could feel her heart almost leap out. Tomorrow! They would have tomorrow. She could see him again and maybe they wouldn’t get interrupted as much.</p><p>“Tomorrow it is.”</p><p>Young man gave her another one of his charming smiles and walked towards his destination, opposite of the car shop. Violet got his car ready to be towed, securing it on the truck bed. She was about to climb into the cabin, when she glanced back at the man as he was walking away. As if sensing her gaze he turned around and waved at her. Violet gave a small wave back. “<em>Tomorrow</em>,” she whispered to herself, watching his silhouette disappear in the hazy distance. Then she climbed into her truck and drove away.</p><p>The sky was heavy with clouds, the air felt hot and stale, but the rain never came that day.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the time Violet got to work the next day, the emerald green sedan was already gone.</p><p>“He picked it up first thing in the morning,” the owner explained, when Violet asked. “I haven’t even unlocked the door, when he showed up. Something urgent came up with his family, I think. He did ask me to pass you this though.”</p><p>She gave Violet her umbrella back. There was a small note tucked between the folds of the fabric. Written on the piece of lined paper were the words <em>Thank you</em> and a small sketch of a flower bouquet. She could feel tears swelling in her eyes. That handwriting! Violet would recognize it anywhere. Simple, clean, printed letters with a slight right incline. She had a drawer full of notes, with the exact same handwriting, hidden at home. The shop owner patted her on the shoulder.</p><p>“Now, now dear,” she said. “It’s a simple mix up, no need to cry. He must have gotten your name wrong.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“The flowers on the note,” the owner explained. “Those are not lavender, they are <em>violets</em>.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do we do when we have a nasty panic attack in the middle of the night?  We post next chapter of the fanfic.<br/>This one might be a bit unpolished, cause I just wanted to get it posted and couldn't bring myself to edit it properly. I kinda love this one y'all, but it also hurts me... I might need a break after this... or write a happy Quiglet, I have a real cute idea<br/>Anyway, where do we begin...can you tell I don't like hot weather? 😂<br/>This was leftover from my very first idea, hence the notes makes a reappearance. I told you they will be important! The beeper was a random addition, as I needed something to interrupt the dialog (oh all the dialog, I am in my element y'all), before they could figure things out. I can't remember, how I originally planned to do this, so beeper it is.<br/>For the names, I kinda went in a different direction. For Violet I needed a name that would work both as flower and colour, Iris was one of my ideas, but I think Lavender works, and I find it amusing, that she does not like it. Also yeah, violets are a birth flower for February, and my headcanon is that her birthday is in February. I was going to use it in another fic as well, at some point, but it made its way here to the casserole.<br/>Quigley just uses his middle name. I was looking up names for my Fire Emblem OC, and thought it would be fun to give the Quagmires middle names. All their middle names match the origin of their first names, so Duncan's is Scottish, Isadora's is Greek and Quigley's is Irish. I also wanted to give him a more common middle name, as his first name is more on the unusual/rare side.<br/>Finally, oof that note. It hurts me...<br/>That is all from me folks, hope you all enjoy...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Quigley first realized how faulty his memory could be, when he was looking for his birth certificate at the City Archives. Among the documents about his family he found a photo of the Quagmire mansion. Its bright yellow door was the most striking feature of the house, yet Quigley barely remembered it. He had impeccable visual memory, but it was trained on memorizing maps. He knew all the changes made in the different editions of the City maps. He knew most atlases by heart. He knew every curve of the Rutabaga River, like the back of his hand. Yet he didn’t remember the bright yellow door his childhood home had and he couldn’t even recall the way Violet looked like.</p>
<p>This realization made him wonder, what other important things had slipped from his memory? What else he would forget about, as time passed? Quigley returned to the Archives the next day, with a sketchbook and a set of drawing pencils. He had learned how to draw before, but mostly used this skill in service of his cartography interest. Now he made sketches of places and things he didn’t want to forget. The pages of the sketchbook filled quickly. His childhood home, the street the triplets grew up on, the park, where he used to climb trees, the airplane hangar, that Mother took them to, their Father’s favourite coffee shop. Small reminders of the life before the fire. He drew sketches of his siblings as well. Isadora reading a poetry book and Duncan working on his articles, were some of his most cherished ones. He drew Hector and his self-sustaining hot air mobile home, when their former guardian came to visit. People turned out to be harder to draw than landscapes and objects, but with time and practice his sketches improved.</p>
<p>Quigley tried to draw the Baudelaires as well, but they were harder to capture from just his faulty memory. He knew that Klaus had dark, kind eyes and wore glasses, that made him look intelligent. He knew Sunny had light hair, that she kept tied up, a playful look on her face and a good set of teeth. Those memories were disconnected, disjointed and the sketches reflected that uncertainty. They ended up a little less sharp, a little more blurry. Quigley tried to draw Violet many times, but that was the point there his memory proved to be even less reliable. None of the drawings came out right - they all were of a girl with beautiful features, but none felt accurate. He was failing to capture something about her. Was it the bright spark of inquisitive mind in her eyes, the way she looked, when thinking of her inventions, or the softness of her lips? Eventually, he gave up in frustration... Quigley tried to find photos of her in the Archives, but any documents mentioning the Baudelaire siblings were marked as missing. As if someone stole them from the Archives. As if someone didn’t want him to remember. Despite everything he still did. He remembered how he felt, when he was with Violet. How his heart burst with happiness, whenever he heard her say his name. Wherever he went, Quigley carried those feelings with him.</p>
<p>Travelling became a form of escape for him, both literal and figurative. The longer he stayed in the City, the more he got reminded about his unfortunate status. The endless meetings with their lawyer, the guilty looks his siblings shared, the gravestone in the Quagmire family plot. Outside of the city limits his life was still his own. Quigley travelled around the area filling his sketchbook with new drawings. A small hope remained with him, that revisiting some of the familiar locations would get him an insight on the whereabout of the Baudelaires. Duncan thought him hopeless, Isadora believed he was being romantic, though hopeless as well. Quigley didn’t think himself as either. Travelling became a second nature to him at this point, he could hardly stay in one place for long. In his travels he searched for the person he cared deeply about. There were worse ways to spend one's life. </p>
<p>The mountains were his favourite destination. He tried to return at least once every season. Quigley saw the thawing of the great waterfall in the spring, the diversity of mountain life in the summer, the beautiful colours of the fall and the majestic display of ice and snow in winter. His latest visit to the mountains was in late spring. The snow still remained on the peaks, but the foothills have started to show the signs of the new season. In the underbrush, between the blades of fresh green grass, he spotted a few purple flowers - the wild violets were covering the forrest floor. Soon the flowers took over Quigley’s sketchbook. He drew them when he felt bored, when he felt sad and when he felt happy. He might not remember clearly how she looked like anymore, but he still could draw her namesake. They became his reminder.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oooof y'all this one is old...like ooooold...like its from the very first draft of the Search or something. But man does it fit here nicely. Welcome to the casserole! I really liked that phrase about spending your life searching, but it never quite fit in with the direction I went with, but does it ever work here.*chef's kiss* My feels ya'll 😭<br/>I do have a song recommendation for this chapter - Reminder by Mumford and Sons. I mean it kinda inspired most of the fanfic, but here...oh it hits hard here.<br/>I do also have a Quiglet playlist. Let me know if any of you are interested, I'll post a Spotify link.<br/>I don't even have that much to say anymore, just I hope you all enjoy!</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was one of the hottest days in an already hot and dry summer. Violet felt quite lucky that the University courtyard provided a sanctuary from the heat and sun. The tall, sandstone, library buildings surrounded the courtyard. Old trees cast deep shadows on the lawn and the walkways. The fountain in the middle of the courtyard sprang out cool and clear water. All felt cool, calm and quiet. Violet found a spot on the bench near the main building and kept a watchful eye on Sunny and Beatrice, who were playing tag near the fountain. The three of them were waiting for Klaus to finish his practice entrance exams. The middle Baudelaire insisted on taking those in preparation for University. Their case was nearing completion, Klaus and their lawyer were confident that the Baudelaires could get their names cleared and their fortune inherited. If they were successful, Klaus could take the entrance exam and enrol in University, Beatrice and Sunny could attend school and have a normal childhood, and Violet could quit her job at the auto shop and work on her own inventions. They could contact the Quagmire triplets and finally see their friends again. That life was almost within their grasp.</p><p>Violet noticed that the courtyard was a popular spot among the students. Even with classes not in session, it was still busy. Some students were reading on the benches in the shade, others were strolling down the walkways discussing their classes and exchanging notes. There was a group setting up a picnic on one of the lawns. Their life seemed uncomplicated and careless and peaceful, and Violet longed greatly for this simplicity. Her gaze followed Sunny and Beatrice, as the two girls ran to the courtyard entrance. Violet could feel her chest tighten when she spotted a person at the entrance wearing a pair of dark aviator sunglasses and reading the University map. She forced herself to remain in place and just continue observing. A moment later Violet realized, she was wrong. That person was too tall to be, who she thought he was, and once he walked into the sunlight, she could see that his hair was a sandy blond colour. The tight feeling in her chest remained. After the chance encounter on the Lousy Lane, she couldn’t stop searching for the familiar sights. The dark aviator sunglasses, the head of unruly dark brown hair, the lopsided smile. Whenever she would spot one of those in the crowd, she would feel the same tightness in her chest, but it always lead to disappointment. It was never the person she was looking for. Deeply lost in her thoughts, Violet only noticed Klaus, once he landed next to her on the bench<strong>.</strong> Judging by his beaming face the exam went well.</p><p>“How did you do?” she asked.</p><p>“Really well!” Klaus replied. “My scores on the language comprehension and analytical writing were quite high.”</p><p>“As expected," Violet said, with a great sense of pride in her brother. She wondered, what would their parents say right now. They would be so impressed by him and how much he had grown, how much he had learned and all the possibilities that the University opened for him. They would never know.</p><p>“I should brush up on the quantitative portion of the exam though,” Klaus continued, not noticing Violet’s distress. “It was the lowest of my scores.”</p><p>“I'm sure it’s still high enough to get you in, but you do have time to practice before your actual exam,” Violet tried to sound cheerful and encouraging, while containing her upsetting thoughts. She had to remain strong for her younger siblings. She promised that to their parents, after all. “Is there anything you would like to do to celebrate? We could get some cream puffs from your favourite bakery?”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” she heard Sunny’s stern voice. The game of tag brought the two younger girls back to the bench. “If we are celebrating, I will bake the cream puffs myself!”</p><p>“Of course,” Klaus smiled. “There is no greater baker in this city that you, Sunshine!”</p><p>“That’s right,” she affirmed. “Are we all done here? Should we head home then?”</p><p>“Actually,” Klaus said cautiously. “There is a place I wanted to visit, since we are in the City. If that is alright with you, Vi?”</p><p>“Which place is it?”</p><p>“I would like to see our old house. If that is ok…”</p><p>Violet bit her lower lip. The Baudelaire mansion or what remained of it, was the last place she wanted to visit right now, but she didn’t want to upset Klaus. “Sure, we can go there.”</p><p> </p><p>They piled into Violet’s tow truck, two younger girls squished in the middle seat, and drove off to the part of the City there the Baudelaire mansion once stood. It didn’t change much from the last time Violet saw it. Just weeds were growing over the charred remains. She could almost smell the smoke and ash in the air. Violet shuddered. Klaus went off to revisit the burned mansion, while the other three Baudelaires remained in the car. Sunny didn’t have many memories of the place, Beatrice had never been there before, and Violet could barely stand being there again. The memories of her parents, though dimmed by time, were still too painful. She blinked quickly to prevent tears from gathering in her eyes. Sunny reached over and patted Violet’s arm gently.</p><p>“I will make some of your favourite tea today too,” she said softly. “To go with the cream puffs.”</p><p>“Thanks Sunny,” Violet responded weakly. “Is there anywhere you would like to visit, since we are in the City? How about you Beatrice?”</p><p>Sunny shook her head in response, but Beatrice did have a destination in mind.</p><p>“There is a park nearby,” she said. “I saw a photo of it in one of Klaus’ newspapers. It has a playground that looks like an airplane! I have never seen a park like that before. Can we stop by there for a little bit?”</p><p>“I don’t remember a park in our old neighbourhood,” Violet said. “But sure, we can go there once Klaus gets back. Will you show me the way?”</p><p>Beatrice nodded, a huge smile growing on her face.</p><p> </p><p>The park was just a few blocks away, situated between two grand mansions. It had beautiful magnolia and evergreen trees, tidy flower beds full of wildflowers, and of course the playground that impressed Beatrice so much. The walkways had comfortable benches and there were little libraries scatted around the park, filled with interesting books and fresh newspapers.</p><p>“I really don’t remember this place being here,” Violet noted when they entered the park. Two younger girls raced to the playground. The older Baudelaires followed them, admiring the layout.</p><p>“Me neither,” Klaus agreed. “It must be a new development. I am positive we would have visited it with our parents, if this park was around at the time.”</p><p>Violet nodded. It was a lovely place to add to the community. Many families were there and the park felt busy with life and laughter. It was a reassuring sight after the burned down Baudelaire mansion. Maybe they could turn that place into something similar too, something good for the community. Sunny and Beatrice were already at the playground, Klaus stopped by one of the little libraries to check the books it had, while Violet noticed a bronze plaque next to the map with the layout of the park. May be it could answer the question of where did this park come from. It did… Engraved on the plaque were the words: <em>In loving memory of Quill, Questa and Quigley Quagmire. May all your roads lead you home…</em></p><p>“The Quagmire mansion,” Violet whispered, running her fingers over the names on the plaque. “It used to stand here. That’s why we don’t remember this park…I can’t believe we used to live so close to each other.”</p><p>“Vi,” she heard Klaus’ concerned voice. “Vi is everything alright?”</p><p>He came up next to her and frowned, as he read through the engraving on the plaque.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I knew…I just didn’t want to tell you. I've read about it in the newspaper last year, when the park opened. I guess, Duncan and Isadora never found him. That’s why he is never mentioned in the articles. Quigley is…”</p><p>“He is not dead,” Violet said, her voice shaking.</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“Not dead!”</p><p>Violet turned around and quickly walked away from the playground. Klaus didn’t follow her. She ran to where she had parked her tow truck, blood pounding in her ears and her throat feeling so tight, she could hardly breath. Once in her truck she took a few deep breaths and reached out to the sun visor. There, tucked away between the gas coupons, was a note with a simple bouquet of violets sketched on it. As sure as she had that note, Violet knew Quigley Quagmire was not dead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello folks, how are we doing?<br/>So I have procrastinated on this chapter, longer than I anticipated, but I am a stubborn little b, I don't give up on my casserole.<br/>Mostly I tried to figure out where should I place this chapter. I think I originally planned it to be one of the last chapters, but you know me...plans... we don't usually go together. Anyway, I think it works here.<br/>Those darn sunglasses...I swear Quigley's sunglasses were always meant to be aviators, because of course they are😎, but I never found a way to work them into the text. This is also like second to last time they get mentioned, so I figured I should actually say what they are. I am not big on describing what the characters wear, as you have probably noticed, but I felt like those are important enough.<br/>What do you think Klaus would take in University? I am leaning towards Linguistics with minor in Classics or something like that.<br/>The Quagmire parents have names! I love them both, in my headcanon, they fit them perfectly☺️ I have thought of those at about the same time, when I gave all the kids middle names. I am especially fond of the Quagmire mother's name, because of course I am.😂 If you are starting to feel like this fanfic is an excuse for me to write out as many of my headcanons as I can, you are probably right. 😂<br/>That ending made me anxious though, I have had a panic attack before while reading about one, so of course as I was writing about Violet's throat being tight, I had a lump in my throat myself...ooof<br/>Hope you all enjoy! I'll try to get the next chapter out soonish, no promises though.<br/>Much love💜</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a warm evening. One of the hottest days in an already hot and dry summer was coming to a close. The dying light of the summer sun bathed the City in deep reds and brilliant golds. Quigley was out on the fire escape, outside of the window of triplets’ apartment. He was working on his latest sketch. It was frustrating. After all the trouble he went through to get to Dr. Montgomery’s house, the sketch wasn’t coming together. He didn’t have as much time to work on the initial drawing, with the flat tire slowing him down and now was missing some of the details. Quigley exhaled annoyed at the state of the sketch, closed the sketchbook and leaning against the bricks of the apartment building.</p><p>“There you are!” he heard Isadora’s voice. A moment later her head was poking out of the window. “What are you even doing here?”</p><p>“You know,” Quigley gestured around vaguely. “Getting some fresh air, enjoying the view.”</p><p>“I highly doubt that the air is that fresh,” Isadora climbed out of the window and sat down next to him on the fire escape. “You do know that you can leave the apartment, right? It’s not like you are under house arrest.”</p><p>It certainly felt like he was, though. Not being able to leave the city, to have his usual travel escapes, started to get unbearable. Quigley felt claustrophobic. It felt like the walls of the building were closing around him, almost like he was trapped in a coffin. Even getting outside of the house did little for him. The city felt too noisy, too busy, too dominating. He desperately needed a change of scenery.</p><p>“I don’t remember you being this squirmy, when we lived on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home,” she continued. “And we were stuck there for three years!”</p><p>“We were always moving,” he said, “Everyday brought new surroundings, new challenges…”</p><p>“Where do you think you’ll go next, once you can leave the City?”</p><p>“I haven’t decided yet,” Quigley replied, looking toward the horizon, where the sun, a disk of molten gold, was sinking between the buildings. “Somewhere new probably. With my legal status changed, I will be able to leave the country.”</p><p>“I heard Winnipeg is particularly lovely this time of year.” Quigley looked back at his sister, who could barely contain her grin. He was about to burst into laughter himself.</p><p>“Thanks for the suggestion, but no. I don’t think I have enough bug spray acquired for that trip.”</p><p>They both laughed out loud, recalling the stories their father told about the ferocious Winnipeg mosquitoes and the copious amount of bug spray he used up fighting them off.</p><p>“Anyway,” Quigley wondered, once they stopped laughing. “You were looking for me?”</p><p>“Oh yes,” Isadora pulled a note out of her pocket. “The lawyer’s office called. They need a copy of your dental records.”</p><p>“My dental records?!?” he winced painfully. “First it was a DNA sample, then my fingerprints, now my dental records! What will they need next? The golden fleece? The plume of the firebird? The broomstick of the Evil Witch of the West?”</p><p>“I am just conveying the message,” she shrugged. “I’m sure, there is a good reason for all of their requests.”</p><p>“As long as it gets this over with,” he sighed, “Remind me to never die again.”</p><p>“I’ll do my best,” she said, “Say, would you be interested in joining me for an outing?”</p><p>“An outing?”</p><p>Isadora nodded. “I have received two invitations for a gallery opening this weekend. They have invited me to do a poetry reading,” she explained. “I thought Duncan could come with me, but he is too busy with his work deadline. And it’ll be good for you to get out for a change.”</p><p>“I’m flattered,” Quigley said, a little too bitterly. He regretted his tone the moment he saw Isadora’s face fall. A sudden thought came to his mind. “You wanted either Duncan or I to come with you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“But don’t you have a… a person, you would rather take to an event like this?”</p><p>“Shows how much time we’ve spent together recently,” she sounded melancholic. “No, I don’t have a person… Like you, I might not quite be over someone yet…”</p><p>They remained silent for a minute or two, watching the inky blue colour of the night devour the last golden rays of sunlight.</p><p>“So what do you say?” Isadora asked.</p><p>“I’d be happy to go with you.”</p><p>“Great!” her face lit up. “You have been into drawing recently too. You might enjoy the exhibit.”</p><p>“Sure,” Quigley said, standing up. “Now shall we go and make sure our workaholic brother eats some dinner?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi folks,<br/>new chapter is here. It's short and not even that sad. Kinda... Don't worry, I'll make up for it in the next chapter. It is real sad, or at least I think so...<br/>That is part of the reason, why this chapter took so long to write, I am just dreading the chapter that follows and my brain kept getting hijacked by a new story. (I already have an outline for that one, but I'll wait till this one is finished, cause I am slow enough as is.)<br/>I have channelled a lot of feelings of mine in this one, as I am pretty sure I am developing a prairie fever, for being stuck in one place for so long...*screams into the void*.<br/>I finally got to write a Winnipeg mosquitoes joke, I've been waiting for this for so long😂  We can all go home now, my writing has clearly peaked.<br/>All the documents that the lawyer is requesting make sense to me for disproving a death status, or at least for identifying a body (I listen to too many true crime podcasts). I originally meant for the lawyer to be more of a character in this story, but like any good lawyer they work best in the background.<br/>Isadora gets to be sad here too for a minute. You can decide, who is she not over yet, I am perfectly fine with either Kladora or Fiodora or even Viodora, I am just very non-committed to either ship. So pick your own fighter for this one.<br/>If all things line up, I should be able to wrap this story in the next two chapters, but no promises on my part.<br/>Hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading!💜</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the season coming to a close, the days were growing hotter and drier, while the heat lingered long into the night. As if the summer sun was trying to compensate for the coming colder seasons. The halls of Chrysaora Art Gallery were dimly lit and had cool air, which made one feel like they were at the bottom of the ocean. They provided much needed refuge from the hot and dry weather. Bright projectors were focused on the art displays, leaving the rest of the exhibit rooms and the walkways steeped in dark shadows, making the gallery visitors barely visible. Quigley strolled through the exhibition halls, doing his best to avoid running into other people. It was almost like a game he would play, when he was younger.</p><p>Quigley checked his watch. It was about an hour before he was supposed to meet his sister at the gallery entrance. Once her reading was done, Isadora wanted to stay in the concert hall to listen to other poets perform and chat with them later, while he wandered off the explore the gallery. The art and sculptures didn’t hold his attention, but the building itself was fascinating. It was designed like a giant maze, with its namesake the sea nettle jellyfish present in every exhibit. The largest one was the glass sculpture at the entrance, but soon he spotted more jellyfish in the oddest locations. There was a woven tapestry with a school of jellyfish at the back of the room, displaying the oil paintings of the famous Hinterlands sunsets. Then there was a small watercolour study of a single sea nettle hidden among the photographs of the Finite Forrest. An intricate inlaid mosaic of another chrysaora marked the walls of the hall featuring the ink drawings of the Briny Beach. A smaller glass sculpture of the sea nettle jellyfish marked the entrance to the room at the heart of the labyrinth. Quigley thought of heading back, but the painting displayed in that room caught his eye.</p><p>It was the only painting in the exhibit room and it was massive. It covered the whole wall from floor to ceiling - the grand display of snow and ice cascading down from the top of Mt. Fraught. Quigley could almost feel the cold dry mountain air and the chilling winds of the Valley of Four Drafts. He stepped closer to the painting, ignoring the blinding lights of the projectors. It was mesmerizing. Despite seeing the mountains countless times, he never got tired of that view. There was comfort in this sight, like seeing a smile from an old friend. Behind him, Quigley heard the rustling of clothes and some quiet steps. Another visitor must have made it to the middle of the maze. His hand instinctively reached for his sunglasses, but stoped halfway, as he realized how silly he was behaving. With the gallery halls being so dimly lit, it was unlikely that they would be able to see him clearly, let alone recognize, who he was. Quigley considered leaving and yet he couldn't start moving. Something in that painting captivated him - the reason why he kept coming back to the Mortmain Mountains season after season, year after year. Did he hope to find something long lost among the all that snow and ice?</p><p><br/>“You can never go back to the moment, when you were happy,” Quigley reminded himself.</p><p>“Pardon?” He forgot that there was someone else in the room with him.</p><p>“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said quickly, trying to salvage the situation. “Just thinking back to some of my memories from the location.” He gestured towards the painting.</p><p>“You have been to the mountains before?” the person wondered.</p><p>“I have,” he replied, “Many times, in fact, I have seen the mountains in every season. Winter, however remains my favourite.”</p><p>“There is something fascinating about ice and snow, isn’t there,” the person said wistfully.</p><p>“Have you been to the mountains yourself?” Quigley asked, somehow caught in this odd conversation.</p><p>“Only once, but I have always wanted to return...the Mortmain Mountains hold a special place in my heart.”</p><p>A special place…He could relate to that sentiment. Not all his memories from the mountains were the happy ones. Camping with the Snow Scouts was unpleasant, listening to Carmelita’s stories was dreadful, finding the burned down VFD headquarters was devastating and the climb up and down and up again the frozen waterfall was terrifying and exhausting. Yet, there was one memory, that made up for the rest of them...</p><p>“I know what you mean,” Quigley said, “Do you have any good memories from your time in there?”</p><p>“I met someone very dear to me there,” they sighed heavily. “What about you? What do you remember the most about the mountains?”</p><p>“They have the most lovely view,” he smiled, recalling his response. “Very…”</p><p>“…lovely indeed.”</p><p>Quigley turned sharply to his right, where the person was standing. Blood rushed to his face and his heart was pounding. It felt like the world had slowed down around him the moment he met their gaze. The light of the projector illuminated their features. It was a young woman. The very same one, who he tried and failed to draw from memory so so many times. Her image finally came together - long dark hair with a straight fringe resting on her forehead, bright blue eyes, clear and intelligent, delicate features and the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. It puzzled Quigley that she was shorter than he remembered, until he realized that he had grown taller in the past few years. There was no way it could be possible, yet without a doubt it was her.</p><p>“You…” he stumbled on words, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “You used to be taller than me…”</p><p>She nodded, looking just as startled as he was. “Is it really you?”</p><p>A bright camera flashlight went off right next to them, disorienting them both.</p><p>“Awww…young love! And what a lovely couple!” this was the last person he wanted to hear right now. “Wait till the readers of the Daily Punctilio hear about this!”</p><p>He heard Violet gasp and run out of the room, before the flashlight went off again.</p><p>“Wait!” he called to her, but it was too late. The flashlight continued to blind him, while Quigley stumbled out of the room. The dark gallery build like a maze was a poor place to chase after someone. Quigley rushed through exhibition halls, running into people, muttering apologies and hoping to spot a familiar sight. Paintings, drawings and photographs flashed past him like a kaleidoscope. Finally, he was back at the main entrance next to the glass sculpture of the Chrysaora Jellyfish. Quigley found his way out, but the person he was looking for, was once again lost to him. He could search the exhibition halls again, but somehow he knew that she was long gone. Exhausted, he landed on the steps that lead into the gallery and resorted to waiting for Isadora there. In the heat and haze of the late summer evening, he could feel the faint smell of the rain. Fall was just around the corner.</p><p> </p><p>Quigley found the photo from the gallery a few days later. It was on the front page of the newest issue of the Daily Punctilio, but thankfully Eleonora Poe was an abysmally bad photographer. The photo was backlit from the projectors reflecting off the painting, so only the two dark silhouettes were visible. Still it was beautiful. The photo captured two people, who looked so in love, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey folks, it me, ya gal...<br/>Turns out, I am way slower at writing, when I don't have my actual job to ignore, who would have thought. Anyway, here is the sad I was avoiding for two weeks. 😭 We were so close y'all, I can't, I'll go cry in the corner now...<br/>As usual hot weather bad...😂<br/>This chapter and the one prior to it, are probably a few out of my original ideas for this story. They actually were one chapter at some point, but I decided to split them. For whatever reason I really liked the idea of the art gallery, but struggled with the name for it. The gallery itself is loosely based on my favourite place in the world the Vancouver Aquarium, hence all the jellyfish.<br/>Originally they were supposed to say "very lovely indeed" at the same time, but it worked way better in my head, then in my writing. But you know, finishing each other's sentences works too😊<br/>But yeah we have one more chapter left and an epilogue, so it should be all over in the next week or so.<br/>Hope you all enjoy! 💜</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a warning, if you have dealt with depression in the past, this chapter might be a bit triggering. Nothing major, but tread cautiously.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a knock on her door.</p><p>“Violet,” she heard her brother's voice. “Violet is everything alright?”</p><p>Violet didn’t answer. She didn’t want her siblings to worry about her, but everything was not alright. Far from it. She returned home late last night, Sunny and Beatrice were already asleep and Klaus was barely awake. Violet passed him the envelope with documents, she was able to collect from the agent at the Chrysaora Art Gallery and headed to her room. The evening was exhausting. First she had to drive to the City after a long day at work, then she had to locate the person, who had the documents for her at the gallery, and then… Violet didn’t want to think about it. She dropped on her bed, still in her work clothes and buried her face in the pillow. It smelled like laundry soda and fresh air. Sunny must have washed the bedding recently. Violet hoped sleep would take her, but instead she was lying there still awake into early hours of the morning. The moment from the gallery haunted her, playing in her head over and over and over. Violet knew she did the right thing there, but still it didn't make her feel any better. Klaus knocking on the door, interrupted her unhappy thoughts.</p><p>“Violet,” he was still there. “Is it ok, if I come in?”</p><p>She made an affirmative noise and turned towards the wall. Violet wasn’t worried, that Klaus would see her tears, after all they had cried in each other’s presence plenty of times before. She didn’t want him to see that her face was completely dry. After last night, she felt like had no more tears left. She could sense him sit down on the bed and place a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“What happened?’</p><p>“It’s nothing,” she muttered, trying to sound as normal as possible.</p><p>“It’s not nothing,” Klaus insisted, “You hardly spoke to me last night, you didn’t come down for breakfast and your beeper has been going off non-stop for an hour now.”</p><p>“I have a day off.”</p><p>“When was the last time you actually took one?” he said sadly. “Something is not right, Violet, this isn't like you. What happened?”</p><p>“I saw Quigley at the gallery last night,” Violet confessed.</p><p>“Are you sure? I mean it could have been…”</p><p>“Do you honestly think I couldn’t tell them apart?” she snapped. “It was Quigley. He was there. He recognized me too.”</p><p>“But that’s a good thing, isn't it?” her brother sounded confused.</p><p>“It was…until I ran away…” Violet let out a heavy sigh.</p><p>“Oh... Why did you?”</p><p>“Mrs. Poe was there taking photos for Daily Punctilio,” she explained, “I am positive, she got at least one of me, but with the lighting in the gallery it will be hard to identify me. Still, I couldn’t risk being recognized. So I ran away...the moment we found each other again I ran away. I did it to keep you and Sunny and Beatrice safe, but I can’t imagine what he thinks of me now...”</p><p>“If he ever loved you, the way you think he did, this would not change his mind.”</p><p>“I don’t know about that…”</p><p>“Violet, this is Quigley we are talking about,” Klaus said confidently. “He knows what it means to make difficult decisions to keep others safe. He tracked the hidden VFD headquarters hoping to find his siblings. He shut the door at the Gorgonian Grotto. He remained at Anwhistle Aquatics for a chance to be together with his family again. If there is anyone in the world, who would understand why you had to run away, it would be Quigley.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Violet turned around and gave Klaus a weak smile.</p><p>“Now, I’ll call your work and let them know you are not feeling well and will take a sick day,” he said. “Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?”</p><p>“I’m not too hungry.”</p><p>“You should eat something, otherwise Sunny will be worried.”</p><p>“Sure,” she agreed. “I’ll have some tea and toast, please.”</p><p>“I’ll bring those right up,” Klaus said with relief. He got up and headed for the door.</p><p>“Klaus,” she called.</p><p>“Yeah?"</p><p>“Do you think we will be able to do it? Clear our names, regain our fortune…Do you think we will see the Quagmires again?”</p><p>“I am positive,” he adjusted his glasses. “The documents you got yesterday are the final piece of evidence we need.”</p><p>“What are those anyway?” Violet wondered.</p><p>“An exhumation and secondary autopsy report for Jacques Snicket,” Klaus replied, “ I’ll bring you tea and toast in a bit. Try to get some rest until then.”</p><p>Klaus left the room, Violet could hear him talk to Sunny and Beatrice downstairs, reassuring them that everything was as fine, as it could be in their current situation. New evidence should have been a reason enough to reopen their case and could potentially overturn their murder charges. Their lawyer was working on creating the case, that the fires they did start were not in malicious intent. As long as no-one got hurt, they would be able to get away with a fine, rather then a sentence. The normal life, all four Baudelaires were so desperate to reach, was so close.</p><p>Violet sighed and turned back toward the wall, hugging her pillow. She thought back to the time their parents were still alive. If she had a bad day, her father would often say a phrase to her, that helped her fall asleep. In the years since the fire, Violet repeated this phrase to herself almost every night. On that day she kept saying it to herself over and over, until she finally fell asleep. Still she didn’t believe those words.</p><p>
  <em>Tomorrow the sun will rise again. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow the sun will rise. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better...Tomorrow will be…better… Tomorrow will be…Tomorrow...</em>
</p><p>When Klaus brought tea and toast up for her, she was deep asleep, her face covered with tears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Folks, I am such a hecking liar...<br/>Thank you so much for sticking with me 💜 This is not the final chapter, but it's coming. I know I keep saying that we are almost done and then changing my mind. Also one of my next fanfics is going to be sad too...even though I said I will never write sad again...cause I am a liar...<br/>Anyway, I felt like Violet needed an extra chapter in this story, and I needed extra time to breath. Also, I wanted to put in the explanation on how their case is going. I mean I did it for Quigley's case, I figured I should do it here too. Look at me trying to logic the ASOUE legal system...😂<br/>I really enjoyed writing Klaus. I realized, that I don't write him much and this was a very nice experience. He is way easier to write, than Sunny. I should definitely write him more in the future. I am also a sucker for the trope, where one person can tell the identical twins apart. I find it really cute.🥰<br/>This is also the fastest I have turned out a chapter ever, like it only took me one draft. Seriously who am I?<br/>I feel like after this chapter and the previous one I owe you all and myself a happy Quiglet, and once again I do have a really cute idea! I'll work on it, once this one is done, so keep an eye out 😉<br/>I do have a song for you for this one We All Need Someone by the Strumbellas (that whole album has very strong Quiglet energy for me, but this song work here so well).<br/>Hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading!🙏🏻</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Head's up this one is long y'all, by my standards at least.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was declared alive on the first day of fall.</p><p>All three Quagmires gathered at their lawyer’s office and watched in disbelief as Quigley’s death certificate got shredded and the copies got erased from the system. After seven years of being legally dead, after months of gruelling legal processing, he was once again considered alive. Quigley couldn’t wrap his head around it. For seven years his whole life was ruled by a piece of paper and now it was nothing more than mere shreds.</p><p>“What do you want to do now, that your status is restored?” Duncan asked, “Should we update the plaque at the Quagmire Memorial park?”</p><p>“Nah,” Isadora interrupted, “How about we grab a sledge hammer and go break your gravestone to pieces?”</p><p>“That would be considered vandalism and I can’t condone it,” the lawyer sighed. “Still there is one more thing I have for you before you leave.”</p><p>“What is it?” Quigley wondered, putting all the documents, he collected over the years into an envelope.</p><p>“Your inheritance,” they put a small blue velvet box on the table in front of him. Quigley grabbed it feeling greatly confused.</p><p>“Didn’t Isadora already receive it years ago?”</p><p>“The key to the Quagmire vaults and your parents’ estate were inherited by your sister, as the eldest, once she came of age,” their lawyer explained patiently. “However, there were specific instructions left by your parents regarding three stones from their collection. They were to be received by each of their children. Your siblings have already claimed theirs.” They gestured toward Isadora’s necklace and then to Duncan’s tie pin. “This stone could only be inherited by yourself or by any of your beneficiaries.”</p><p>“And I couldn’t receive it because I was considered dead and didn’t leave a will at the age of thirteen,” Quigley chuckled.</p><p>“Precisely,” the lawyer confirmed. “So it had been sitting in the vaults until today.”</p><p>“I am curious to see, what colour you got,” Isadora said, shifting in her chair.</p><p>“Aren’t all sapphires blue?”</p><p>“Royal blue is one of the more common and more valuable colours for the sapphire,” Duncan clarified, “But the stones come in a variety of colours, depending on the quantity of certain metals present in the stone. Both of our sapphires are of rare and unique colour. Mine is a bi-colour green and Isadora’s is a black star sapphire. I do wonder, how does your stone look like.”</p><p>Quigley opened the box, while listening to his brother’s explanation. Inside it, there was a round dark purple stone, resting on the white satin cushion. The accompanying card listed the stone’s properties and its name.</p><p>“Viola Odorata,” he read the name on the card. “Duncan, you know Latin, what does this translate to?”</p><p>“I can’t believe it,” Duncan said, looking like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. “It means…” He didn’t finish his sentence and burst into laughter. Isadora was no better.</p><p>“If our parents were still alive, I would think they had quite a sense of humour,” she giggled.</p><p>“Seriously, what does that name mean?” Quigley started to get frustrated with his siblings. “I am sorry, I am the only one in this family, who does not know Latin!”</p><p>The other two triplets composed themselves fro a minute. Duncan was about to explain the stone’s name, but met Isadora’s gaze and they burst into laughter again.</p><p>“Viola Odorata is the Latin name for Sweet Violet,” their lawyer explained calmly. “My guess is the stone is named after its colour resembling that particular flower. I must admit, I do not understand what you siblings find so amusing about it.”</p><p>Quigley smiled in understanding. A beautiful name for a beautiful stone. His parents could not have guessed better.</p><p>“What do you think, you’ll do with it?” Isadora asked, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are not that into jewelry and you don’t really wear ties?”</p><p>“I’ll make it into a handsome earring,” he grinned. Quigley already had an idea.</p><p> </p><p><br/>It was the first real day off she had in years.</p><p>After the trial hearings were done, questions answered and evidence presented, their situation did not look as grim as before. The siblings got cleared of the murder charges and payed the fines due. Their lawyer was compensated handsomely as well, for crafting and presenting a strong case. It was a testament to the size of Baudelaire fortune, that even after all the fees and fines, they still had enough money left to live a comfortable life. They found a cozy apartment in the University district. Klaus had passed the entrance exams and started his studies. Sunny and Beatrice got enrolled into community school. Violet was sceptical about it at first, but then Klaus reminded her that their experience at a private school was not that great. The two older siblings agreed, that if need be the girls could be home schooled. Though Sunny and Beatrice were eager to meet other kids in their new school. On the first day of classes Violet wanted to drive them, but Sunny insisted, that they were both old enough to take the school bus.</p><p>“You have worked so hard, for so long to provide for us,” she told Violet. “We will be fine on the school bus and you can take a day to rest.”</p><p>“Can I at least walk you to the bus stop?” Violet asked, impressed at how independent her baby sister had become.</p><p>Sunny nodded and the three of them walked together to the big yellow bus. Once the girls were safely inside, Violet waived to them watching the bus depart. She returned to their apartment, had her breakfast, that Sunny lovingly prepared, and then wandered around aimlessly from room to room. Nothing needed to be cleaned, nothing needed to get fixed yet, everything was new in that place. She had no work no rush to, no chores to do and no problems that required her immediate attention. This was an odd feeling for Violet, to be left all to herself with nothing to do. Then her gaze fell on the telephone. Of course! After all they had waited long enough. Violet flipped through the pages of the phone book, easily finding the Quagmire residence phone number. She punched the numbers in on the keypad and waited, wondering who would pick up.</p><p> </p><p><br/>The Quagmire triplets exited the building, where their lawyer’s office was situated. The warm fall day was nearing noon, with soft glow of the morning sun pouring over the city. Quigley took a deep breath in. He was alive again, he could do anything and go anywhere. All these possibilities made his head spin.</p><p>“What does it feel like to not be legally dead anymore?” Duncan asked, giving Quigley a nudge with his elbow.</p><p>Quigley took off his sunglasses, put them away in their case and tucked them into his backpack, before he answered. “Like I can see the world clearer now.”</p><p>“I still think we should go and destroy your gravestone,” Isadora chimed in.</p><p>“It will have to wait,”Duncan said, checking his watch. “I’m gonna be late for work, I only took the morning off. Can you give me a ride back to the office?” he asked Isadora.</p><p>“Don’t you have a car of your own?“</p><p>“I do, but we decided to carpool, remember?”</p><p>“Sure,” she agreed, slightly annoyed. “I don’t suppose you need a ride somewhere too?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Quigley said. “But if you could take the documents home, I would really appreciate it. Oh, and my stone too.”</p><p>“Not a problem,” Isadora grabbed the items from him. “Will we see you in the evening?”</p><p>“For sure,” he smiled. “We have a lot to celebrate, don’t we?”</p><p>With that he gave a wave to his siblings and ran across the street to catch the rickety trolley. He had a destination in mind.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Violet was skipping stones on the Briny Beach.</p><p>Once she got herself ready fort he day, she felt like she couldn’t stay in one place. She went for a walk in their new neighbourhood, stopped by a bookstore, to pick out a present for Klaus’ upcoming birthday and got some candy for Sunny and Beatrice at the grocery store. With those tasks accomplished, she climbed into her old pick up truck and drove to the Briny Beach.</p><p>Violet was a little worried, that nobody was picking up the phone at the Quagmire residence. It could be, however, that in the middle of the day all of the triplets were busy. She could always try to contact them later, in the evening. Briny Beach was not her preferred destination, but Violet thought, revisiting the place where all of their misfortunes began, might be beneficial. At least she could get a feeling of closure. It was empty, just like the day that Mr. Poe informed them of their parents’ demise, as the beach was closed for the season. It was not as foggy, though Violet could see a some dark clouds far on the horizon. She picked out a few smooth stones and skipped them on the water. The sea was clear as glass and she could easily see where they landed. The stones dropped into the water with satisfying sound. With the last one gone, Violet thought about her stone retrieving invention. She could recreate it now. Or remake the toaster she wired into grandfather clock, maybe this time she could prevent the toast from burning. Or she could remake the climbing gear, she made for herself and Quigley, now that she had access to better materials than forks and pieces of the charred candelabra. Her possibilities were endless…</p><p>Violet tied her hair up in a ribbon, thinking about all of her past and future inventions. Lost in thoughts, she didn’t notice, that the dark clouds on the horizon were moving closer and didn’t hear the distant clap of thunder.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Quigley put finishing touches on the last drawing in his sketchbook.</p><p>The grey shading of graphite pencils reflected the grainy texture of the dark sand and ocean debris. He flipped through the sketchbook noting his progress. What started as simple rough sketches, now evolved into proper drawings, that could be displayed in a gallery. Or at least they would add nice flourishes to his maps.</p><p>The weather around him was changing fast, the warm glow of afternoon sun devoured by the encroaching dark clouds. In the distance, Quigley could hear dull sounds of thunder. It looked like it was finally going to rain, so it was time for him to go. He tossed his sketchbook and pencils into his backpack, got up, dusting the sand off his clothes and then… with another clap of thunder, the rain came. It started with a few small raindrops, falling into warm fall afternoon. They landed on his face, one rolled under his collar, sending a shiver down his spine. Then he heard another clap of thunder and the rain fell harder. The sea surface looked like it was boiling, the sand darkened with water in mere minutes, and the light of the sun all but disappeared. It took him a few moments to start moving. The rain was spellbinding. The fresh scent it carried, the dust and grime it washed away from the shores of Briny Beach, the feeling that it brought out in him. Within minutes his shirt and hair were soaked. As nice as the rain felt, it was not worth catching a cold. Quigley looked around the beach and ran for the closest shelter - an old lifeguard station closed off for the season.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Do you mind if I take shelter from the rain with you?”</p><p>Violet shook her head to indicate that she didn’t and moved aside to make more room. The rain was rattling on the roof of the old lifeguard station, thankfully the boards that made up the floor remained dry. Violet spotted that person running all the way from the other side of the Briny Beach. He must have taken a longer time to find shelter, as his hair and clothes were completely soaked. He dropped his backpack next to her and then sat down, shaking the water out of his hair.</p><p>“Can you believe this rain?” she said more to herself, then to the person next to her. “Especially after the summer that we had…”</p><p>“It was quite unexpected, I must admit,” her accidental companion replied. “Though I am glad it’s not hailing. I got caught in the hailstorm once and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”</p><p>“I can imagine,” she empathized. “I got stuck in the middle of the hurricane on the lake once, and in the storm at sea.”</p><p>“You must have had an interesting life.”</p><p>“One can say that,” she laughed.</p><p>They remained silent, listening to the sound of the rain. A strong wind gust blew by, carrying cold raindrops. Violet wrapped her arms around her knees. She left both her jacket and umbrella in her truck - the sudden change in the weather left her unprepared. Her gaze shifted down to the boards of the lifeguard station floor, where she spotted a small piece of paper. It must have fallen out of his backpack pocket. Violet picked it up to pass it to him, but a brief glimpse of the words on the note made her heart skip a beat. She would recognize this handwriting anywhere! Clean, simple, printed letters with slight right incline.</p><p>“You must have dropped this,” she said, taking a closer look at the person next to her, passing him the note.</p><p>He looked at her, alerted by her comment. It was a young man, about her age, maybe a little younger. He tilted his head to the side and ran his hand through his hair to move it out of his eyes. They were a warm hazel colour, with a touch of green near the irises.</p><p>“Thanks,” he said, smiling. Only one side of his mouth moved, creating the painfully familiar lopsided smile. “Say…this might sound odd, but have we met before?”</p><p>Of course they had. So many times. In the mountains, in the city, on the Lousy Lane and at the gallery. And probably countless times before that, when they passed each other on the street, unaware of each other’s presence. Violet wanted to blurt it all out, but held back. She steadied herself, trying to sound calm.</p><p>“I believe we have.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all! 🙏🏻 we done!<br/>I'll try not to ramble too much, as this chapter is already pretty long, but here we go.<br/>The first day of fall, here in Canada is usually around September 21st (or whatever day the Autumn Equinox falls onto), so this chapter takes place at the end of September. I also have a headcanon, that the original story of ASOUE, begins around the end of September too.<br/>The three sapphires idea is a leftover from the Promise. I kinda went on a deep dive, while writing that one and the stones had a way more elaborate story. I really like how I worked them into the casserole through. I think Duncan got possessed by Klaus' spirit in this chapter 😂 I usually like to have Isadora do all the exposition dumps, but it works here. Also that line about the sledge hammer, I liked it so much I used it twice. 😂<br/>Everything else goes as follows in this one, just wrapping up all the bits of the story together.</p><p>The titular rain was giving me a lot of problems as I tried to write it out. I am very used to the prairie storms that move very quickly, but are very heavy and sometimes come with hail. And tornado warnings... we had like 5 this summer so far... Anyway, the storms on the coast, work differently, from what I remember, so hope it works either way. 🤷🏻♀️</p><p>I love that final scene so much. It was heavily inspired by Your Name and Erased, which I both rewatched during quarantine. I tried not to recreate the scenes from them line by line. But anyway it's cute. 🥰<br/>The note does not say anything important, it's just a reminder like "get bread and milk" or "book a haircut." Quigley always needs a haircut and only remembers to get one, when his hair is full overgrown. That is my favourite headcanon, I will die on that hill.😂<br/>I do have songs for you, they are both very me, so please indulge me for a moment. Either Wake me up when September ends by Green Day (especially the acoustic version, I was like bawling out crying listening to it, while writing) or Re:Re by Asian Kung Fu Generation. There is an English version of this song (here's the link:<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GB9cw6p9ces">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GB9cw6p9ces</a>) and the lyrics in it are just so so good!<br/>Hope you all enjoy, I'll add more to the notes on the whole story in the epilogue.<br/>Thank you for reading!💜</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Quigley adjusted his sunglasses, as he stepped out of the train station building. Early fall was in full swing. One could see the signs of the new season everywhere. The summer heat gave way to the crisp mornings and balmy afternoons. The leaves on the trees in the City parks were changing their colour. The City itself was covered in shades of red, yellow and brown. Warm glow of the autumn sun bathed the streets in its soft light. Even the dull grey buildings of the transportation district looked more appealing in this light.</p><p>An array of yellow taxis were coming and going. People climbed in and out of them, rushing to catch their train or proceeding to their next destination. Families and friends were separating and reuniting to never be apart again. Travellers were arriving to the City for the first time or leaving it, surely to return. The rickety trolley passed on its usual route.</p><p>With a quick glance around, Quigley spotted someone waiting for him at the designated pick up area. Violet’s old tow truck was looking much better with a fresh coat of paint and a new set of tires. He quickly traversed to the spot, where she had parked. It only took a moment for Violet to notice him approaching. Next thing he knew, she flung herself onto him, almost making him lose his balance.</p><p>“What are you daydreaming about in the middle of the busy street?”</p><p>“The moment I get to see you again,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I love the colour you got for your car.”</p><p>“It matches my ring."</p><p>A year had passed since the day they found each other again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Soulmates always find their way back to each other. ~faraway</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So...<br/>I once again will try not to ramble too much, as I don't want the notes to be longer than the chapter. I love this one, its short and sweet and to the point. I didn't initially plan this, but I thought since Quigley starts this story, he gets to end it too.<br/>If y'all allow me to get emotional here for a moment, I love these two like something stupid...<br/>When I first started this story, I actually wasn't sure, if they would end up back together, but I just couldn't bring myself to write otherwise. I swear, that scene from Slippery Slope made me have a Grinch moment, and my old and shrivelled heart grew three sizes bigger that day. I don't really believe in soulmates in real life, but man do I ever believe that these two were made for each other. </p><p>I hope y'all enjoyed this one, I sure did enjoy writing it, despite all of my crying (much crying was involved.) If you liked this one, I recommend reading my other stories 😉 they have about the same level of melodrama. The Search and the Promise are probably my favourites. If you had a favourite moment from the story, please do let me know, I am very curious. Mine would have to be all of Chapter 3, it is a great combination of sad and cute, and the epitaph on the Quagmire memorial plaque, it was very beautifully haunting.</p><p>Also, a shout out to warlockdetective, whose story inspired the first chapter and to blackberry_jam, whose kind comments really kept me going.<br/>And thank you all for reading and leaving kudos, it makes me so happy to know that folks enjoy my stories!💜</p><p>UPD: Hi! it me again, that one person, who never shuts up 😂 Anyway, I did some format editing on this one and caught some of the typos (hopefully, most of them... why so many typos why?) so now this story should be a little nicer to read. Also look at those numbers, they real calm my anxiety 😂 Can someone please give me an extra kudos, just so that everything could be divided by five. You don't have to though, but you could 😉<br/>Thank you all for reading!💜</p>
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